Frosted
by musicprincess1990
Summary: When Jack discovers the kingdom of Arendelle, he is struck by its towering mountains, its brilliant skies, and its obvious affinity for winter - his signature season. But he never could have expected, even dreamt of, the person behind it all, much less that he would fall for her…
1. Prologue

One of the many luxuries afforded to Jack upon his becoming an official Guardian, was the ability to travel between worlds. And there were literally _thousands_ of them! Tens of thousands of realms and parallel worlds, scattered across the universe, just waiting for a touch of _Frost_.

And he planned to explore them all

North had shown him the Hall of Portals shortly after his initiation. It was in a hidden corridor, the door to which was in his office. He'd stated that every world needed the Guardians, even if they didn't all believe in them. Some worlds were a bit too far gone, filled with disbelief and cynicism. The only upside was that they didn't believe in Pitch, either. And he was trapped in his lair, dragged there by his own nightmares. He couldn't hurt anyone… for now, at least.

Jack wondered, silently, if he could help the people in the other worlds believe in them. After all, he'd gotten Jamie to believe, hadn't he? And as far as he knew, Pitch was unaware of the existence of other worlds. If he could help them believe in him, and his friends, they would have an advantage, and maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't lose their strength, if Pitch ever _did_ come around again. Hell, it was worth a shot.

So, Jack waited until the others had dispersed, and North was fast asleep, before sneaking into the Hall of Portals.

There were so many to choose from. Where would he start? He strode past door after door, portal after portal, none of them really capturing his interest. In the end, he supposed he'd just have to pick one at random, and see where it led. Then, about halfway down the Hall, he stopped, eyes fixed on one particular door.

It wasn't very large, barely big enough for him to walk through without ducking. It seemed to be made of wood, a light grain, with an intricate, gilded design carved into the face, and an ornate, old-fashioned brass doorknob. It looked like something out of a fairytale. He glanced up at the label over the door. "Vuldania," he read aloud, smirking at the name. Sounded like something North would make up. For all he knew, he had.

His attention was then drawn to an old, worn paper, posted just to the left of the door. Stepping closer, he read:

_Home to the 4 Kingdoms:  
><em>_Andalasia  
><em>_Arendelle  
><em>_Corona  
><em>_Wonderland_

_Yep_, he thought, _definitely out of a fairytale_. Jack nearly scoffed and turned away, but his eyes lingered on the second kingdom. _Arendelle_. Something about that name, something about all of it, beckoned him closer, as if chanting in his mind, "Come, Jack. Come and see."

Jack put his hand on the doorknob…

* * *

><p>AN: Aaaaaaand yep, that's where I'm ending it! Sorry, but not really. Gotta wait until the next chapter! I know, I'm wicked. So sue me. Actually, don't. I can't afford it. Ahem. Anyways, what do you think? This is my first attempt at a crossover fic! Yay for branching out! This is also my first foray into the "Jelsa" ship. I was recently converted, and I'm kind of obsessed, but it's actually surprisingly hard to find Jelsa stories. Well, no, there are quite a few, but most of them are alternate universe, modern-day, high-school drama stories. That, or they're really dark and depressing. Not my style. So, rather than waste time on a fruitless search, I thought, "Well heck, why don't I just _write_ a Jelsa fic?" And boom! This chapter was born. Anyhow, I'm rambling. Please, please, _PLEASE_ review!


	2. Not Alone

Elsa hated summer. Always had. Hardly surprising, when one has the power to create ice and snow out of thin air. Unfortunately, she had a sister who thrived in warmth, and a kingdom that still didn't trust her after her wintry episode a year prior. They loved and respected their queen, but any time the slightest flurry fell, wary eyes and whispered remarks followed her.

It hadn't taken long after the whole affair for Elsa to learn to truly control her powers. Love was the key, as Anna had demonstrated. As long as she remembered the love she had for her family and for her kingdom, she could live without fear of creating another accidental storm. Once in a while, she let loose and turned the courtyard into an ice rink, but never without cause, and certainly not without consulting Anna first.

"You're the queen," Anna always said. "Do what you want."

"But you're my sister," she would reply, "and your happiness is more important."

Anna never said no. Sometimes Elsa could tell she wanted to, but she never said it outright. She appreciated Anna's efforts to make _her_ happy, but the occasional skate around the courtyard wasn't quite enough.

The only person she felt truly appreciated her powers was Kristoff, her sister's husband-to-be. He'd often told her how he wished he had her abilities. Elsa always laughed such comments off, never expressing what she really thought: _Trust me, you really _don't_ want them._ Olaf was a constant source of joy, and a happy reminder of the good her magic could do. But deep down, she was filled with a painful combination of remorse, longing, and loneliness. She felt, yet again, trapped by her powers, even though she had more freedom now than she'd ever had.

Her first time returning to her towering ice palace was in the spring. As the winter gradually gave way to warmth, she felt her spirits sinking. She'd been able to maintain composure through the remainder of summer, mainly due to the elation of reuniting with Anna, and discovering how to control her abilities. Winter had come in its normal time, and, naturally, she thrived. The kingdom was happy, her sister was happy, and life seemed to be taking a turn for the better. But when spring came, her entire being resisted. Often, she awoke to a room lined with frost, snowflakes hovering in the air. Once—and _only_ once—she attempted to extend her favorite season into April and May, but was met with the distrust of her subjects, and a scolding from her younger sister.

In desperate need of an escape, she announced her departure, and made her way back to the North Mountain. Amazingly, the palace still stood, gleaming and unblemished in the sunlight. The shattered remains of the chandelier, and the bristly evidence of her battle with the guards from "Weasel-town," still littered the upstairs hall. Shuddering at the memory, Elsa quickly set the palace to rights, restoring the chandelier and repairing the balcony. A light snow gently fell on and around the mountain, but in the distance, she could see the blooms of spring still brightening the fjord. _Still in control,_ she thought with a triumphant grin.

These trips to her palace became a weekly occurrence. With the aid of her favorite horse, Ivory, she was able to leave before nightfall, enjoy a night of freedom, then return to her royal duties the following day. It wasn't perfect, but it was a release, enough to keep her going.

Until summer came.

The heat made her distracted and uneasy; she itched to create a good snowstorm, enough to blanket the ground with a decent layer of fresh powder. And suddenly, she found herself repeating a familiar, unwelcome mantra: _Conceal it, don't feel it_.

She was going to go insane.

It was a day early, but, unable to stand the feeling of restraint any longer, she fled to the stables, quickly saddled Ivory, and made a mad dash for the mountain. She arrived at her palace as the sun began to set, the soft hues of orange and pink giving it an ethereal glow. Elsa led Ivory into the small stable Kristoff had built for her (he'd done so without her knowledge, and she hadn't yet been able to muster up the guts to thank him for it), and trudged through the snow—_her_ snow—toward the only place she truly felt at home.

The doors opened as she approached, groaning with their movement. Elsa couldn't stop the smile that eased across her features as she climbed the flawless, translucent steps, always so proud and awed by this creation of hers. Elsa trailed her fingers along the rail, delighting in the cold that kissed her fingertips. It never stung, never bit, never _bothered_ her. It was soothing, and she loved it.

More and more, Elsa felt tempted to just _stay_ here. Now that she had control, she wasn't averse to having visitors. She could certainly still see Anna and Kristoff from time to time. And she knew Olaf would certainly love to stay with her. The happy little snowman adored her almost to the point of worship—which she felt was silly, but she loved him too, and would be happy to have him with her. She could stay… Anna and Kristoff could certainly handle the kingdom… and she could be _free_.

Elsa's thoughts were halted, along with her steps, as she neared the second set of stairs. Something was different about them. They weren't the smooth, icy perfection she was used to. Instead, there was a fine coat of frost on each step, with unfamiliar, swirling patterns. Warily, she ascended, the frosty fractals crackling beneath her feet. Atop the stairs, she saw the same swirls and whorls, lining the walls and covering the floor of her favorite room. _This isn't me_, she mused. _I couldn't have done this._

Something landed on her head with a sharp _thud_, causing her to gasp in pain. As she rubbed the sore spot, she looked down on the ground to see what had fallen. It was a small, crystalline shard of ice, undoubtedly from her chandelier. She looked up, and sucked in another gasp.

_She wasn't alone_.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm good at cliffhangers, aren't I? Let me know what you think!


	3. Unexpected

_Snow?_

Under normal circumstances, Jack wouldn't have been surprised. Some places, like the North Pole, were covered with snow all year round. These, however, were _not_ normal circumstances, for it wasn't the snow itself that surprised him. It was the fact that the snow wasn't _everywhere_. As he stepped through the door, he realized it was only falling around one mountain. Everywhere else, the glow of summer reigned. _Ugh,_ he thought with a grimace, retreating further into the cold. He'd never liked summer, even when he was alive… or… in his _past_ life… whatever you wanted to call it.

Jack craned his neck to gaze up the lofty peak, trying to make out the cause of the localized storm. When an answer didn't come immediately, he summoned a gust of wind, leaping into the air to examine the mountain more closely. He squinted through the snowfall, looking for anything unusual, then circled around to the other side.

"_Whoa_," he breathed.

An intricate palace, made entirely of ice, seemed almost to grow directly out of the mountain, shooting toward the sky in glittering spires. Jack grinned, and zoomed toward it. He landed at the top of a long, elegant staircase, which connected the palace itself to the neighboring mountain, separated by a steep ravine. With a gentle nudge, the doors swung inward. His jaw dropped as drank in the splendor. At the center of the foyer, an ice fountain with glittering, frozen droplets caught the sunlight, a double staircase surrounding it, leading deeper into the palace. Amazed, he took each step slowly, his eyes memorizing every inch of this glistening structure. Hardly a flaw could be found.

_Except…_

Jack felt a smirk stretch across his face. The only thing that would make this place better was a little… _frost_.

Approaching yet another set of stairs, he tapped the bottom step with the end of his staff. A swirl of tiny crystals spread out from the point of contact, lining each step. He paused a moment to admire it; his frost softened the sharp edges of the icy stairs, making them seem a bit more approachable. Jack called the wind again, soaring up to the top, and into a spacious room, which opened out to a balcony. He trailed his staff along the floor, laughing in delight as his signature pattern extended across the whole room, climbing up the walls. He slowly floated upward, toward the ceiling, watching his handiwork make its way to the top—and admiring the chandelier.

Then, he heard footsteps.

Turning his head toward the noise, he sucked in a gasp. A woman stood in the doorway, wearing a sparkling blue dress and a purple cloak. Her platinum hair was draped over her shoulder in a thick braid, and her eyes were a brilliant, sapphire blue. She was exquisite. Slowly, she walked toward the center of the room. Jack hung by the chandelier, watching her as she surveyed her surroundings. Something in her expression suggested disapproval. It bothered him, more than it should. Something else flashed in her eyes, something he couldn't quite identify. Jack leaned closer…

A small piece of the chandelier broke off. Jack's stomach dropped as it plummeted out of his reach… and landed right on her head. _Oh, boy_, he thought. _At least she won't be able to see me._

But as the girl slowly lifted her head, her eyes widened. _Can… no… can she…?_

Before he could answer his silent question, she stretched one hand out, and suddenly, his vision was impeded by a sheet of ice.

"GAH!" he exclaimed, dodging it at the last second. Then he stared at the woman. _She_ had done that? She had _magic_? Had she created this castle, too? He didn't have time to think about this, as another icy blast came his way, and then another, and then another.

"Hey!" he attempted to catch her attention, his mind still reeling at the fact that she could _see_ him—or could she? She never seemed to be looking directly at him, just sort of in his general direction. Jack flew out of the way, the gust of wind carrying him out onto the balcony. His attacker faced the opposite way, head twisting wildly as she looked for something. _Him_. So she _couldn't_ see him. Jack tried to ignore his disappointment; no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt to discover yet another person who was oblivious to his existence.

"Hello?" the woman said suddenly. Her voice was clear and strong, if a little anxious. "Who's there?" She pivoted, looking out to the balcony, and directly _through_ Jack. "Show yourself?"

Jack chuckled. "All right," he shrugged. "You asked for it."

Using the same trick he had with Jamie, he fashioned a small, cloud-like bunny, and grinned as it hopped toward her. She stepped back in fright, but soon, her features softened, and her brows pulled together in curiosity. _Just wait_, he told her in his mind. With the same technique, he created a pair of kittens, playfully wrestling each other in mid-air, then blowing away in the breeze. Next, a miniature horse, and he sent it cantering toward her. To his delight, she laughed, even reached out to stroke its frosty mane.

When it vanished, he took a moment to study her. She looked considerably less afraid, but all the more puzzled. Jack wanted her to believe… wanted it so desperately… but how? To this day, he still wasn't quite sure _what_ had made Jamie believe in him. Maybe it was just in Jamie's nature to believe. That wouldn't surprise him in the least. But this woman… she didn't strike him as the kind to be easily moved. She was powerful—that much was obvious by her attempted assault on him—and clearly very strong-willed. He'd have to do something _big_, something extreme… and then he got an idea. It would take a lot of his strength, but… it was worth a shot.

Slowly, gathering every particle of frost from within the room, he molded them into a life-size replica of himself, down to the staff. He grunted with the effort, and the moment his concentration shifted from his work to his audience, the image dissolved, fluttering to the ground in a pile of discarded crystals. Her eyes grew wide for a moment, then they slid to him. She let out a cry, taking a step back, and the next moment, Jack was knocked backward. A final blast of ice and snow had hit him squarely in the chest, sending him into the far wall.

"Oof," he groaned. "Remind me not to get on your bad side."

"Wh-who are you?"

Jack stared at her, throat tightening with hope. His eyes never left her as he gradually rose to his feet, brushing the snowy debris off his clothes. He swallowed thickly. "Can… can you see me?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes…?"

Jack let out a strangled half-laugh-half-sigh. He grinned widely at her. "Oh, that always feels so amazing. Really, I was afraid you would never believe!"

"What do you mean?"

He glanced down bashfully. "Sorry. I'm still getting used to this. I'm Jack Frost." He took a step toward her, holding out his hand for her to shake. She jerked away, eyeing his hand suspiciously. "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you or anything. I'm just introducing myself."

She hesitated, eyes flitting between his outstretched hand and his face. Eventually, she straightened, hands falling to her sides, and her expression went from one of fear, to one of almost haughty authority. "Queen Elsa, of Arendelle."

Jack's eyebrow shot upward. "_Queen_ Elsa, huh? Guess that means this is your palace?"

"Which you have now defiled," she snapped.

"'Defiled'?" he couldn't help a laugh. "Nah. I just frosted it a little."

"Yes, Mr. _Frost_, that seems to be your specialty."

He smirked at her formality. "You can just call me Jack. 'Mr. Frost' makes me sound old. Then again," he chuckled, "I guess I _am_ about three hundred and eighteen… give or take a year."

Elsa's brows met in bewilderment. "But… you can't possibly—"

"I'm a Guardian," he cut her off. "Chosen by the Man in the Moon to protect the children of the world—of _all_ the worlds, actually," he added.

"I don't understand."

He shrugged. "It's a lot to take in. I still have trouble believing it. But it's true."

She remained silent for a moment, staring at him. Jack met her gaze unabashedly; he knew she had questions, and he was prepared to answer as best he could. "I… I thought I was the only one…"

"With ice powers?" Jack smiled. "So did I."

"Were you… born with them?"

"Not exactly," he squirmed slightly. This particular topic still made him a little uncomfortable. "They were given to me… after I died to save my little sister."

Her eyes flew wide open. "You _died?_"

"Yup," he nodded, shuffling his feet. "Fell right through the ice and drowned. Next thing I knew, I was this crazy frost wizard, and the Moon's telling me my name is Jack Frost."

Her eyes were once again burning with more questions, and Jack prepared himself for a complete interrogation. But what she actually asked was, "You have a sister?"

_Of all the things_… "_Had_ a sister," he corrected, his voice tinged with sadness. "She's long dead by now. I saved her, but that was three hundred years ago."

"I'm very sorry," Elsa said, and he was briefly taken aback by her sincerity. Looking back at her, he saw genuine empathy shining through those sapphire eyes. She took a step toward him. "I understand the burden of sacrificing yourself for family."

Jack stared, his mind spinning as he attempted to figure her out. Had the Man in the Moon chosen her, too? Was she meant to be another Guardian? And if she was, did he _want_ her to be? Part of him said yes, he'd enjoy having someone else around for snow days. But another part of him screamed in protest. There was only room for _one_ ice-maker in the club, and he'd already filled that position. And what could she possibly know about sacrifice? She was still alive. He could tell by the subtle pink flush beneath her cheeks, and the white puffs clouding around her nose and mouth with each breath. That didn't happen to him. His breath was as cold as the air around him.

"I should go," he whispered, feeling abruptly self-conscious. He hated it.

"Oh… well…" Elsa stammered, looking uncertain for the first time since he'd laid eyes on her.

He grinned. "I could come back tomorrow, if you like."

She met his eyes, and the slightest of smiles lifted the corners of her lips. "Yes, I would. I'd like to know more about the Guardians. And… and you."

Jack's insides tingled for reasons he couldn't hope to explain. Pushing these strange feelings aside, he put on a jaunty smirk, and with a flourish, bowed low. "Until tomorrow, Your Majesty." Elsa giggled, and the sound sent another tingly wave through him. He glanced up at her, still bowing, and was momentarily transfixed by the sparkle in her eyes. She was so beautiful…

"Until tomorrow, Jack. And please," she added, "call me Elsa."

Standing up straight, Jack's grin widened. "As you wish… Elsa."

The blush in her cheeks deepened, and Jack took a moment to enjoy the view before hopping on the breeze, and riding it back down the mountain, to the portal back to the North Pole. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, looking back up to where he now knew Elsa waited. Suddenly, he found himself counting down the hours until tomorrow.

Something happened then and there. He wasn't sure what, or why, or how he even knew. But he _knew_… he could feel it… things were about to change.

* * *

><p>AN: So. First meeting and all that. What'd you think? And by the way, yes, that _was_ a not-so-subtle nod to _The Princess Bride_, one of my favorite movies of all time. This story has me SO excited! I love writing these two! And I love getting reviews! You should leave one. (winks) You know you want to!


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